


Pancakes

by DeeNuke



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, VictUuri, Yoi - Freeform, Yuri on Ice - Freeform, viktuuri, yuri!!! on ice - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 04:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9367259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeeNuke/pseuds/DeeNuke
Summary: A couple of months down the line in Viktor's and Yuuri's life living together in Russia.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A fluff fan-fiction, after an idea tweeted by YumeYuuh on Twitter.

It was another Sunday morning, and another cold yet sunny day of winter was dawning. Viktor had been awake for maybe half an hour now, at least that's what the dark rimmed clock on the wall said. Its silvery needles had been pointing at the black 'eight' and almost the 'twelve' when he had woken up, but now  they indicated the 'eight' and the 'six'. Making a small sound, Viktor smiled; so he had been staring at Yuuri's sleeping form for more than half an hour now, though his mind was not really on the time, his attention focused on the man next to him. He had woken up only to find himself pulled back into the sheets, unable to peel himself away, wanting to stay a little longer  there .  He smiled a little at the thought then drew in a deep breath. Yuuri had moved to Russia with him... for him. No, wrong. For them, they were together now, for everyone to see and acknowledge, and every day since he had been there with him felt like bliss.

Three months, two weeks and five days; that was how long Yuuri had been with him in Russia now, living under the same roof. Was it creepy that he knew that detail? Too much maybe? Normal? He didn't even have  anything in terms of comparison,  and for a moment he felt oddly uneasy, maybe even awkward. He frowned as though to rebuke himself, but then the thoughts vanished as he heard a soft huff, like a sigh, coming from Yuuri. He was waking up, and Viktor knew the signs by now, he had watched him every morning since day one. Yuuri would sigh deeply with a small, soft sound, still in slumber, but his air deprived lungs would ask for more, so instead of a deep breath, he would only manage a soft one.

And then Yuuri would shuffle a little, Viktor recalled the details, waiting for him to move, smiling as he saw Yuuri do just that, all wrapped in the grey, woolen blanket. Moving a little closer, Viktor let his fingers gingerly touch Yuuri's cheek, barely caressing, pinning a few longer strands of his jet black hair behind his exposed ear. "Moya Spyashchaya krasavitsaa," he whispered to himself. 'My sleeping beauty', that's what he had called him  the first time he had seen him sleeping, and he smiled again, now waiting for the small pull at the sheets, and watched how Yuuri's fingers curled into the bed sheet and sleepily pulled at it, "Bingo," he whispered and chuckled silently to himself as the back of his fingers caressed Yuuri's cheek again. "My sleeping beauty," he silently repeated.

The moment stretched and Viktor simply remained silent, just watching Yuuri open his eyes, a lazy blink, a squint and then another blink, a small sniff and then the softest grunt. Always a grunt when the light was too bright. He smiled again at the thought,  at the fact that he knew Yuuri well enough to predict even his random sleeping patterns. He dared reaching out again and touched his cheek, resuming the  tender caresses, "Yuuri...," he said, his voice soft , and suddenly the frown on Yuuri's face turned into a smile. His eyes grew bigger for a second as though he was surprised to see the reaction his voice had caused, then the soft trickle of warmth spread through him until he felt like his heart would melt, the soft throbbing in his chest spreading heat throughout his entire body. He somehow ended up to be Yuuri's reason to smile just by saying his name. "Vstavay...," he said in Russian and smiled. They were things Yuuri now understood even when just half awake. "Wake up...," he continued, his voice just as soft.

"But it's Sunday,  _Viktorooh_ ...," the  accented  answer came, but more as a joke than anything else.

"But you need to eat," Viktor added.

There was a moment of silence then Yuuri smiled, "You mean I need to prepare breakfast again?" he sleepily said, eyes still closed, one cheek squished against the pillow, making his lips involuntarily purse and part a little in an unflattering 'fish' face.

Eyes on Yuuri, Viktor briefly bit his lower lip then snorted, crawling a little closer and then kissing Yuuri's forehead, ruffling his hair with his fingers, "Not today," he nodded as though Yuuri could see him.

"Oh?" Yuuri made a surprised sound and attempted to open his eyes, but the sun made him instantly squint, grunt,  and turn his head, burying his face in the pillow.

"It's my turn," Viktor said while continuing to caress Yuuri, his hand moving to the back of his head, running his fingers through his hair every now and again.

"It was your turn last week, too," Yuuri insisted, his words muffled by the pillow.

"It was, wasn't it?" Viktor chuckled and drew in a deep, relaxed breath, still watching Yuuri. Silence fell between them, soft and comfortable, and if he had to describe it, he would say that it almost felt  like silk, not heavy with awkwardness but wavy and soft, and it was exactly what he needed, what they both needed in that very moment. But that was how he always felt around Yuuri, at peace, relaxed, calm, that dragging heaviness of being lonely now fully gone ; there was not even a memory of it as though it had never even existed. "My sleeping beauty," he whispered again, the words just rolling off his lips without him even realising he had uttered them.

"You keep saying that,” Yuuri responded and finally opened his eyes, turning his head and looking at Viktor. The deep brown of his irises were almost as jet black as his hair, perfectly matching the softness of his features, plump in the morning, but always somehow refined, andso addictively mesmerising to Viktor. Holding Viktor's gaze, Yuuri finally breathed out in relief. He was there, Viktor was real, and he was with him... finally... still. He could still not wrap his head around everything that had happened in the past year, though things felt so natural now it probably mattered little. All he wanted was to wake up next to him, hear him hum while he was making his coffee, see him drag Makkachin onto the sofa with him, complaining when the dog would not comply, hear Viktor protest his fashion sense... and there was something about 'hideous ties' as well, Yuuri recalled with a smile. 

"Why are you so pretty?" Viktor murmured , and with a small moan he leaned in and pressed his lips onto Yuuri's, ignoring the morning breath, but immediately feeling Yuuri trying to pull away, only to give up and melt into the kiss.

"Biased," Yuuri smiled and looked at him as they broke the kiss, his hand reaching out and cupping Viktor's cheek, caressing him in return. "How do you say 'biased' in Russian?"

Leaning back a little, giving Yuuri some space to move, watching him roll onto his side and hide a yawn with the back of his hand, Viktor pursed his lips a little, "Predubezhdeniye," he simply said, the undulations of the sound flowing naturally. Silence again and then he just chuckled seeing Yuuri's almost desperate expression, "It's a," he said, his voice soft, " yes , don't think about it just yet," he chuckled again and immediately resumed the caresses. "How about we start with something simpler."

"Like breakfast?" Yuuri smiled at him, turning his head a little and kissing Viktor's palm before he looked at him again.

"Like breakfast," Viktor nodded, “Which , by the way, is  called 'zavtrak' in Russian ,” he added as though he was a professor.

“Zaaav--,” Yuuri started then gave up. “Why do you have all those,” he started saying and then sighed as though he was in pain, “ _corners_ in your words?” He made a face and rubbed his eyes.

“Corners?” Viktor snorted.

“Yes, it's like, there are edges. You're poking at everything when you speak,” Yuuri tried to explain. “There are sharp edges and spikes and--,” but abandoned the thought and just exhaled deeply, mildly exasperated. The words were simple enough for him to grasp them, their meaning, to understand people around him when they spoke their native language, but pronouncing them was an entirely different matter, one that apparently he could not master, not just yet.

“Well, how would you say 'breakfast' in Japanese then?” Viktor feigned annoyance, but smiled.

“Asagohan,” Yuuri immediately answered and a relaxed sound came from him as though he had needed to say that word for a really long time.

Thinking about it, turning the word in his head, Viktor ultimately nodded, “Okay,” he pressed his index finger against his own lips, “It does sound more,” a pause and he sniffed, “roooound and without corners, edges and spikes,” he chuckled.

“'Asa',” Yuuri said, “means'morning',” he continued and rolled onto his back, staring at the white ceiling of the bedroom. There was a tiny spider making its web there, he noticed, but then Viktor's voice made him look away.

“You miss speaking Japanese,” Viktor reached out and started to caress Yuuri's forehead, his index finger tracing the bridge of his nose, the length of it, then stopping on the tip and gingerly pinching it, making Yuuri wrinkle his nose and sniff.

Rolling onto his side, Yuuri nodded with a smile, “Yes, but not as much as I would miss being with you,” and he gave him a happy chuckle.

“Ugh!” Viktor growled, “You're an idiot, Yuuri,” he smiled at him, “The things you say,”

“Look who's talking,” Yuuri quickly answered and reached out, briefly caressing Viktor's cheek in return.

“Indeed,” Viktor sighed and straightened up a little, kissing Yuuri's hand before dragging himself out of bed, “Now come, out of bed with you... I'll make you what people say we eat for breakfast on Sunday mornings."

"Soooounds...," Yuuri sort of nodded, "dangerous ?” He chuckled a little, still sleepy, eyes half closed, but focused on Viktor, taking in the fine features of his face.

"Since when don't you like taking risks, my love?" Viktor chuckled, but seeing the change in Yuri’s expression, he blinked a little confused, "Something wrong?"

With a small smile, Yuuri shook his head a little, the softest chuckle coming from him, "No, I was just looking at you."

"Mmmm...," Viktor nodded, “ that I noticed," he silently swallowed hard, “but  that doesn't answer my question.”

"I was just thinking how beautiful you are," Yuuri uttered in the same sleepy voice and just shifted a little, curling up against Viktor's chest, pulling him a little closer while hiding his face against him.

There was a moment of stillness and Viktor was about to make a joke about Yuuri's eyesight, but then he slowly smiled and gingerly wrapped one arm around him. "You feel so fragile sometimes, Yuuri," he said, his fingers running through his hair, “and you're so far from that," he added, but couldn't help but think about all they had been through until that very moment.

"You make it easy," Yuuri's muffled voice came through.

"Oh?" Viktor leaned back a little to look at him, but not enough to pull himself away from him, "Make what easy?"

Silence again as Yuuri shifted softly against Viktor as though he was uncomfortable. His fingers curled a little tighter into Viktor's t-shirt and he drew in a deep breath then exhaled just as heavily, "Being myself. Fragile or otherwise, whatever I am, you make it easier for me to be me," he suddenly said and looked up at him. “I sometimes don't even know what I am or even who I am and yet,” he softly continued, holding Viktor's gaze for a bit then pushed himself back to look at him properly, “I...,” he sniffed, "I keep waiting for you to demand something from me, something I cannot give, though I do not know what I wouldn't give you," he half smiled  and shrugged, then briefly looked away, "I don't know, maybe you'll want me to do better, be better...," he paused and sighed again, "But now you just cope with me, just the way I am," he looked back at Viktor, his eyes a little worried.

Listening to Yuuri, Viktor tilted his head to the side a little, like a confused pup that was trying to identify an odd sound. He turned the information  over in his head for a bit then smiled at him and reached out again, continuing to caress his cheek, "I'm not coping with anyone, Yuuri,” he finally said. “You sound like I'm tolerating you when,” he shook his head, “that’s definitely not the case. I can tolerate that horrid tie you refuse to throw away,” he briefly grinned, then his expression softened again, “but not you, my love,” and he leaned in again, kissing Yuuri's forehead one more time. “Maybe one day you'll stop thinking that you're not enough to the people around you. Maybe, just maybe," Viktor smiled a little more, "I know, your brain works in,” he briefly paused, “mysterious ways," he sighed then, “but just for the record, I'm not seeing something that's not there. You said it yourself, you're you around me, apparently even more so when you're drunk,” he faintly snorted, remembering the banquet that had been the start of their story. The banquet would always be one of their most memorable moments, well, his own, Yuuri could still not put that night together. “Joke aside, Yuuri, you're not a burden. You never was and never will be.”

With a deep breath, Viktor focused back on Yuuri, “I know you're far from perfect,” he continued, “ but what makes you think that I am?” He paused, “What is perfect anyway?" He saw Yuuri lower his eyes, so his hand moved from his cheek to Yuuri's chin, and with his index finger he lifted it up a little so that Yuuri would have to look at him, "You're perfect to me, Yuuri," he finally said, with the fondest smile on his lips, “and I'm lucky that you find me so perfect for you, and maybe that's all that matters,” he said as he took his hand away.

"The things you say," Yuuri softly chuckled and leaned in a little, wrapping his arm around Viktor's torso and pulling him down into a hug, "Can you say more?" He snorted against his chest and breathed him in.

"Greedy!" Viktor laughed, cradling Yuuri in his arms the best way he could.

"For you and the sappy things you say that I can't get enough of? Always," Yuuri admitted with a nod.

"See, that's why I love you," Viktor laughed and looked at Yuuri, who immediately look ed  up at him as well. "You're so out there, in everyone's face, from awkwardness to passion, but it's you."

Smiling, Yuuri simply remained silent as he was pondering Viktor's words. He didn't really have a reply and he felt like they didn't need one in that moment ;  being in each other's arms was quite enough. It was always enough somehow, even if in the back of his mind he still feared the day when maybe those moments were not going to be enough. Would that day ever come?

With a deep sigh, he lightly shuddered and pushed the thought away, "Thanks!" Yuuri suddenly snorted as though he wanted to make a mockery of that thought. He let go of Viktor, watching him push himself up a little. He was graceful even in the simplest of movements. Dramatic at times even, maybe  that was w hy his skating was the way it was ; the fluidity of it had always amazed him, there was always a certain grace to him, like he had been born royalty who had moved his entire life on soft carpets and danced to the crystalline sounds of Pachelbel's 'Canon' or Barber's 'Adagio for Strings'. It felt and looked like each feeling and emotion Viktor had was carried out through his movements, too.

Breathing in deeply, Yuuri stretched, but suddenly stopped when he noticed Viktor's unblinking eyes on him. He shrank a little under the blanket and peered back at him, only to notice the way Viktor was looking at him. The softest expression was etched on his face, and he realised once again that no one had ever gazed at him like that. If hearts could shatter like glass, Yuuri's just did. He swallowed hard, but a smile curved his lips nevertheless. That's when he knew it, when he admitted to himself that, indeed, things might get rough at one point, life had its ways to burn happiness to the ground after all, but now, now he was not alone and he could carry that burden. Though, he had never been alone, he just he just never realised it. The thought spurred a surge of guilt, and just as Yuuri shifted uncomfortably and his heartbeat picked up a notch, a warm hand touched his and then he met Viktor's eyes again. There he was, always sensing his inner turmoil, and with a simple gesture smothered the toxic fire. Slowly the pain in Yuuri's stomach faded and the ache in his chest vanished, his breathing calming down.

"You're welcome," Viktor just said and winked at him. "Now...," Yuuri heard him say , "off you go to brush your teeth, because I want to kiss those pretty lips of yours. Aaaand you won't let me otherwise..," he chuckled softly, "Plus I need to see to that breakfast I so dearly owe you.” Viktor pursed his lips a little as though he was posing for  the photographers, head lightly tilted back and turned for that perfect angle. 

“Show-off,” Yuuri joked and pushed himself up and off the bed, briefly looking over his shoulder as he walked out of the bedroom, still not steady on his feet. 

The time was just half past nine when Yuuri walked into the kitchen. The air was warm, both from the sun that streamed through the windows, and the heat coming from the kitchen. It smelled of fruit and sugar mixed with coffee, Viktor's very dark and bitter coffee that Yuuri didn't particularly like, but didn't particularly dislike either. It was one of those things that one couldn't put away even if one  wanted to, 'an acquired taste', Viktor had argued ,  and he had been right.

Yuuri had taken his time, a long, hot shower, and by the time he walked into the kitchen, the breakfast was almost ready, laid out on the table. There were pancakes or something similar and bowls containing different things, in one he saw caramelised frui t, and in another, some red caviar. “Fancy...,” he muttered and continued to examine the displayed food. There was also a small jar with a spoon in it that contained sour cream, and another one with jam, strawberry, by the looks of it, his favourite. It had sort of been an unspoken agreement: Viktor would keep his beloved, bitter coffee, and gave up his equally beloved and bitter British marmalades in the favour of sweeter jams, ones that Yuuri preferred. In return, Yuuri would put up with the coffee , and it worked out just fine for both of them.

Hearing steps behind him, Viktor turned around, instantly smiling at the sight of Yuuri's confused expression. He chuckled and turned the stove off then placed two empty cups onto the table, making the plates shift a little as he pushed them, then invited Yuuri to sit down. "Don't tell me you doubted me," he grinned at him and Yuuri immediately shook his head and pointed at one the plates, "Oh that," Viktor said, "pancakes. We have to start with pancakes," he no dded. " b ecause it has been a staple of Russian cuisine for more than a thousand years."

"Ah," Yuuri smiled and pulled  up a chair to sit down , "Do you need help with anything?" He suddenly looked up.

"Noooo," Viktor's eyes briefly grew a bit larger in surprise, "It's my turn to make breakfast, plus, it's just the coffee that needs…,” and he let his words trail as he turned back to the stove and picked up the small coffee pot, bringing it to the table. He carefully poured the beverage into their cups, then sat down, too. Yuuri hated black coffee, but not even he dared to spoil the taste of it with milk and sugar, not the taste of that particular coffee and not after he had attempted exactly that and had realised it tasted completely and utterly wrong. "Of course, I'll need your honest opinion on this," Viktor added pulling his chair closer to the table, sitting opposite Yuuri, watching him trying to decide which pancake was going to be his first victim.

"Okay, so," Viktor started and Yuuri's eyes eagerly focused on him as though he was waiting for an explanation, "These are Bliny," he pointed at one of the plates that had pancakes, the larger and thinner ones.

“Bliny,” Yuuri repeated in a soft tone and nodded to himself as though he was trying to register the word.

“Bliny basically means 'pancakes', so you're going to eat _Pancake pancakes_ ,” he held back a snort and continued, "You can try them sweet," he pointed at the small bowl of jam, "or savoury.” He grinned a little as his eyes moved to the caviar, "For the savoury topping, I chose a beloved Russian delicacy,” and his tone suddenly changed as though he was now presenting the most extravagant dish in the world to an audience, “caviar!” He said proudly, but then his voice and tone dropped just as quickly, “Aaaaand it is normally served with a that with a dollop of sour cream," he added, watching Yuuri's still unconvinced expression.

"And what's that?" Yuuri pointed at the other plate of pancakes.

"Those are Syrniki."

"Still pancakes?" Yuuri asked.

"Cottage cheese pancakes," Viktor corrected, " but yes," and he sniffed, "I prefer them served with caramelised fruit and sour cream on top," he gestured towards the bowl with the fruit and the sour cream jar.

"Sy-rooh... ni...ki...," Yuuri tried to pronounce it very slowly.

"Syr...," Viktor repeated smiling, "Rrrrrr...," he rolled an 'R' so quickly that Yuuri made a face.

"Sy-rooh...," Yuuri tried, but chuckled seeing that that consonant didn't want to behave.

"That's why you always call me 'Viktorooh  ', he said smiling and saw Yuuri nod at him.

"Okay,” Viktor pondered, briefly pressing his finger against his lips again, “How about you try the 'r' you do when you pronounce your own name," he ultimately suggested as he took a sip from his coffee.

With a sigh, Yuuri thought for a second, but then pursed his lips a little, "That's different."

" How so?" Viktor looked at him over the rim of his cup.

"My 'r' has a vowel after it, yours doesn’t,” he paused and smiled. “Such a lonely 'r'," he added in a very melancholic tone, but then chuckled at his own joke.

"Like its owner," Viktor added and craned his neck, lowering his eyes for a second.

"Not anymore," Yuuri's answer came so quickly that it surprised even him. He realised what he had said and fell silent for a couple of seconds, " a t least I hope so...," he unblinkingly gazed at Viktor. His face was serious, but then his expression softened,"Now it is a ' _rooh_ ', not just ' _r...h_ ', he tried making the correct sound for the letter, but it sounded so fake and unfinished that he almost shuddered.

Viktor's eyes shot up and he looked at Yuuri in silence for a couple of seconds. There it was again, the soft warmth and tingles that spread through him from the simplest things Yuuri would say to him. 'Not lonely', he thought and shook his head at Yuuri, "No. Not anymore...," he repeated and smiled widely, happily. He had not been or felt lonely since Yuuri had come into his life. "It is a 'rooh' now," he softly laughed and drew in a deep breath, putting the cup down on the table. "'Sy-rooh-niki' it is then," he finally announced the verdict with a smile on his lips, pronouncing the word just as Yuuri.

“ _Syroohniki_...,” Yuuri grinned, pleased with himself, but then his stomach made a loud sound. He looked down, then back at Viktor with an expression that said 'let me eat', then turned his attention back to the food, and with a loud gulp, Yuuri drew in a deep breath and nodded a few times, "I'll have everything, please!" And with a swift move, he just forked some Syrniki pancakes onto his plate, then, as Viktor had advised earlier, topped them with the caviar and poured some sour cream on top.

There was silence and Yuuri didn't even notice it, didn't notice  Viktor simply gazing at him, observing him, waiting for a verdict; all he could focus on was the taste in his mouth, the soft texture of the pancake melting as the flavours collided and offered him something he had never tasted before. A long sigh and sound of relief came from him as he closed his eyes behind the blue rimmed glasses, and his shoulders slouched a little, "This is...," he tried to speak, his words muffled as he chewed, " _Cheeeesus!_ " He looked at the food on his plate then back at Viktor, " _Thish ish_ so good," he managed some mangled words through the chewing, his lips curving into a smile, his cheeks still half full.

A small snort came from Viktor, then a chuckle, and he briefly looked away then back at Yuuri.  "You really love food," he said softly and followed suit with forking some Syrniki onto his plate, garnishing them accordingly. “And you look like one of Phichit's hamsters,” he added.

"What's not to like about food?" Yuuri said after finally swallowing, “And Phichit's hamsters are rather adorable now that you  mentioned it.”

“Like their owner,” Viktor smiled.

“I keep telling him that,” Yuuri pointed out. “He doesn't believe me.”

“He'll believe it one day,” Viktor continued and cut a small piece of pancake. “When are you going to see him again?”

“Two weeks,” Yuuri happily grinned. “He's coming over!” And for a second his voice picked up a notch from excitement. 

“He can crash here if he wants to,” Viktor announced. “The couch is rather comfortable. I promise that,” and as he said that, he saw Yuuri's eyes grow bigger. “What?” Viktor snorted lightly, “He's your best friend, Yuuri. You think I would keep you away from each other? Plus, he's really good at taking candid shots.”

“Of course you would say that,” Yuuri smiled, “And I know you wouldn't keep me away from my friends.”

“Then you give me too much credit,” Viktor's expression suddenly changed, his eyes squinting.

“Maybe because I trust you?” Yuuri calmly continued.

“Ugh! There you go again,” Viktor rolled his eyes, but then simply gazed at him in silence, feeling that sensation of happiness move through him.

Finally noticing his stare, Yuuri held his gaze, “What?”

"Oh, nothing, I was just...," Viktor smiled, and looked away, his eyes on his plate as he calmly cut a small piece of pancake, dipped it into the cream and placed some caviar on top of it with his knife, "Trust me, it makes me happy seeing you happy. Especially if it comes from things I can do for you, like breakfast... or allowing your best friend a few nights around."

"Oh, you're making this again," Yuuri grinned and pointed at his plate before his attention was captured by the food in front of him once again, more happy sounds coming from him as he continued eating.

"Oh, the struggle,” Viktor laughed then pondered, “Japanese is a very soft language," he suddenly noted, going back to their previous conversation. "I like it actually...," he started to calmly chew the pancakes, "Very,” a pause, “melodious," he added as he finally swallowed.

Yuuri smiled lightly as he felt a little bit of native pride, "Unlike Russian?" he noticed Viktor squint at him, feigning hurt feelings.

"Okay, smartass,"

"Sexy... ass for you," Yuuri added with a small grin.

Tilting his head to the side a little, Viktor made a soft sound, "Oh," he paused, "I do like it when your  _'eros'_ is showing," and he silently sniffed, "Though I can attest that you do, indeed, have a sexy ass, my dear," he added, a grin on his lips.

Briefly looking away, Yuuri sort of nodded, now awkwardly cutting his pancake, "Well...,” he briefly paused, “I can't say I mind hearing you say that," he cleared his throat only to burst into laughter a second later. "This is silly . ”

"It is, my dear, but it's also lovely. I wouldn't change it for the world."

The words were enough to make Yuuri look up and softly smile at Viktor. “Neither would I, Viktor,” he said. He felt strangely at peace, calm, but maybe that was what love really felt like, peaceful, calm, stormy and dizzying at the same time, but never a burden. Burdens started to disappear around Viktor, magically or not, they were easier to carry. And lost in his thoughts, small pleasant revelations made him smile, and Yuuri remained silent, those sweet flavours mixing with those sweet thoughts, thoughts of a 'forever' by Viktor's side. Yuuri could still remember Cristophe's remarks and jokes; 'venturing into mutual domesticity' he had called it when Yuuri finally announced that he had decided to move to Russia to be with Viktor.

Eyes on Yuuri, it took Viktor a while to re-focus on his plate, his attention still very much on the seemingly unaware man in front of him, happily stuffing his face with pancakes. Nowadays the simple dish was more like a weekend breakfast choice, because of the lack of time in the busy mornings, but now he made it for Yuuri, made time for him, for his fiancé, and the word sank in slowly and made him smile again. Strange how much he had started to smile since Yuuri had taken over his life. With that thought, he pressed his lips together for a second and sighed.

'No time', he pondered again; that was what he had always believed, that he had no time for 'life and love’, and then life and love had hit him in the face so hard he didn't even know how to put himself back together. Yuuri was doing that for him instead, picking up those pieces he himself could not make sense of and putting them back where they belonged. His eyes went to Yuuri again who was now greedily, but still frowning, sipping from his coffee. Viktor smiled; Yuuri hated black coffee, but he would still drink it just because, maybe for his sake. So he watched him quickly wash the taste away with the sweetness of the caramelised fruit and pancake, and another smile curved his lips as he sighed relaxed. 'It will be fine. Somehow it will be so very fine.'

 


End file.
